My first dinner in Westville Prison convinced me I had arrived in heaven as I was starving after eating only the bare minimum of slop, at Diskobolos.
Detesting the repulsive food, I forced myself to eat to survive. As lean as I was, I lost weight. The defined athletic brush-cut stranger in my mirror gave me much needed new confidence. My defiance of authority was a defence mechanism.
A gifted Indian chef created spectacular food. Besides the food, the lack of rank obsession and the camaraderie was incredible.
Fortunately, my fast metabolism prevented me from evolving from a tart into a pudding!
My heartwarming welcome in the personnel office was deeply touching. I was no longer accustomed to humane treatment after the cruel basic training at Diskobolos.
They failed to break my spirit, but I realised that they had scarred my self-esteem when emotional warmth floored me.
The guys in the office became more inquisitive after I made my first phone call in months. Due to long lines and short breaks, ET had little time to phone home. I simply vanished in the SADF.
I phoned my mom first who was worried sick. The bad line caused me to speak louder. Thereafter I phoned Dolf and spoke quietly. Everybody stopped working to listen shamelessly to my private conversation.
What do you say when your loved one says, I love you? I said, “yes, me too,” sounding like a narcissist. I was abrupt, embarrassed and self-conscious, so I cut the call short. That was a wrong move!
Now everybody listened to my quiet, revealing, short call that said a thousand words. Trunk calls were logged and this excruciating call to Bothaville in front of an inquisitive audience could not be wished away with a magic wand.
They were no fools and enjoyed having me by the short and curlies. During dinner my Spanish Inquisition cornered me, and I had to confess that I was an Alien too.
They were annoyingly pleased with themselves. We operated in an extremely homophobic environment and faced severe victimisation. I became one of the Merry Men.
Our interactions became more jovial, and Grant, the only straight guy in the office, grasped the changed dynamic, as he was also a square peg in a round hole. He kept our secrets and loved the sharp-witted vibe in Personnel Division.
All was well for a few days until Meintjies was summoned to his supervising officer, the sour Lieutenant Du Plessis. Nobody trusted him and we kept him at bay.
Meintjies returned in a foul mood, and somebody was going to pay! Me!
He rapped my knuckles for my awful handwriting. “Rubin, you lied about your neat handwriting!” “These documents are not Doctor’s scripts and Lieutenant Du Plessis is disgusted and angry with me for letting you get away with it!” Meintjies said.
“What do you expect me to do with all these ruined documents?” “Colonel Wiliams hates hieroglyphics! He had Lieutenant Du Plessis on the red carpet, and Du Plessis gave me hell in turn! Now I’m crapping on you and Deon, your supervisor!” Meintjies vented furiously.
“Fix this mess and don’t stop, until it’s done!” “I don’t care if both of you miss supper,” Meintjies hissed at us. I was stunned… His hidden flaming dragon persona caught me off guard.
Subdued grovelling was required… “I apologise, Deon.” Meintjies shot lightning bolts with fiery eyes at me. He had been promoted to Warrant Officer recently, which is the equivalent of a Sergeant-Major in the Army.
“Are you dumb, as well? This badge has a name!” he said, pointing to the shiny metal badges on his arms. “Never address me by my name again. Get out of my sight!” Warrant Officer Meintjies said in a raised voice.
I slumped back to my desk, tail between my legs and proceeded to complete the documents more carefully. The other guys were also shocked by his fury.
Deon Schlebusch gave me new blank documents to transfer all the information neatly. He whispered, “Meintjies is such a bitch!”
Meintjies must have had Superman hearing and yelled at Deon, “Join Probationary Warder Van Niekerk tonight to ensure the paperwork is decent, Sergeant Schlebusch.”
Deon went pale with anger at Meintjies, but he wisely grovelled alongside me and said, “Yes Warrant Officer, I’ll make sure he does not make a mess again.”
We worked in icy silence until about 19h00 fixing my horrible handwriting. Eventually, Deon exploded, “‘Rubin, I’m extremely pissed off with you for making me fix your paperwork! Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. You owe me big time!”
I apologised profusely to Deon and promised to buy him a few drinks when we went out again. “Let’s go and get dinner before you ruin my appetite and the Mess closes,” Deon said exasperated. A new guy, Sergeant Peter Schnetler, was also joining us for dinner.
Deon had a soft side and we liked each other. “Okay, you are forgiven for the first and last time, Rubin, but remember I never forget!” I thanked him for being so sweet and for everything he did for me. We were both sweating and needed to shower first.
Deon went to a different shower while I went to my usual shower. No suggestive bantering this time. Deon was also still fuming. I was angry with myself for ruining our great camaraderie.
An athletic guy came out of the shower with a towel around his waist. I stared at his six-pack. He stared back and I suddenly realised that it was Lieutenant Du Plessis who looked sexy without his glasses and uniform. I hoped he did not recognise me without his glasses!
I apologised when I squeezed past him in the narrow aisle hoping my towel did not slip off. Both of us had towels around our waists. He gave me a friendly nod. Wow, his body would have made a great bronze.
I told Deon about his impressive body. Deon was surprised that neither of us had encountered him coming out of the shower before. We had no idea that Lieutenant Du Plessis stayed in the single quarters. Later showers seemed sensible!
During dinner, we noticed Captain Pieterse, whom we had never seen before. He must have worked late, as he was still in his uniform. He spotted me and called me over. “Are you Rubin van Niekerk?” “Yes Captain,” I said, wondering how he knew who I was. I guess I stood out like a sore thumb with my short brush cut.
“You are supposed to assist me in the psychology department but have been incorrectly assigned.” “Please report to me at the Westville Command Centre tomorrow morning at 09h00. I need to introduce you to Westville Prison’s Commanding Officer, Brigadier Kapp.”
As I got back to the table, Deon was dying to know what that was all about. I told Deon who got upset. His sudden possessiveness raised my damaged self-esteem.
He whispered, “Captain Pieterse can’t just steal you from us after we have spent a month training you,” Deon said. “And you have learned fast,” he complimented me.
“I’m sure Meintjies would be pleased to get rid of the dummy,” I said. Deon smiled and said, “Meintjies had a short fuse and could be a drama queen, so don’t let allow that to hurt your feelings.”
His defence of Meintjies surprised me. “You have no idea how hard he worked to get you assigned to Personnel when we could not prove your educational level,” Deon said.
“What happens now?” I wanted to know. Deon said, “I have no idea as we have never faced a scenario like this. This is weird, as we thought you had at least a matric with your big mouth!”
HQ never makes mistakes with graduates recruited for specialised departments.” “Deon, surely none of you doubted my word?” I asked.
“Rubin, they paid you a standard eight salary thus far, so we knew the lack of documentation created a bureaucratic tangle at HQ and at Westville Command. That is probably why Captain Pieterse wanted to introduce you to Brigadier Kapp.
Deon continued, “None of us have ever met Brigadier Kapp. Only senior officers deal with him. Apparently, he is incredibly bright and sees straight through people. The senior officers tiptoe around him.
“He is going to have you for breakfast,” Deon said, pretending to shudder. He seemed pleased that I was wide-eyed with worry. “Maybe they will want me to do an officer’s course, Deon!” I retaliated.
This annoyed Deon who was always very direct. “That’s utter nonsense,’ he said, seething. You won’t be promoted over my head.” Captain Pieterse was still watching and probably heard most of what Deon said.
“If they do, I’ll kick your butt and make Meintjies salute me after I’ve made him run around a bit…,” I said to Deon’s merriment.
He frowned and said, “I hope you won’t pull rank on me, Rubin!” “No, I’ll just spank you,” I said laughing. “Promises, promises,” Deon grinned with fluttering eyes.
The following day, Deon drove me to Command HQ, a kilometre away, much to Meintjies’s irritation.
Captain Pieterse had a big office with many books. Being a raw Army recruit, I jumped to attention. He was tickled pink and told me to sit in one of his comfortable chairs. “Rubin, I must assess your skills, although I know about your university background and part-time work. Can we talk about your views on the military.
“The Army said you were aggressive, problematic and refused to break, but cleared you for specialised combat training or Junior Leader Training,” “Your questioning of authority is also cause for concern,” Captain Pieterse said.
“You passed your psychometric evaluation and appear to know yourself.” “Please identify your weaknesses and tell me why I should employ you in 90 seconds?” Captain Pieterse asked.
That floored me briefly. “I agree with the Army, as I question authority and want to work with people where there is mutual respect.
“I refused to be indoctrinated yet was still given the green light for other units of my choice. I chose to continue my applied psychology education. You could teach me why the world gives up.” I said.
My perceived arrogance is a common assessment. I think I am just impatient with stupid people with inferiority complexes who got promoted North of their glass ceilings.
“I tend to disagree with people openly and will most likely irritate you often. My saving grace is my emotional honesty, sense of humour and thirst for knowledge,” I said.
Captain Pieterse kept a poker face. “I’ll give you ten out of ten for the top reasons why I should not employ you as my right hand, but the speed with which you grasped your weaknesses was outstanding and the final comment about humour and passion worked!”
“I’m sure you will irritate me sometimes! Your experience under Dr Wolfe’s mentorship in the psychiatric ward and your proctoring work at the University of Port Elizabeth are valuable.” I like you but you’ll probably drive me bonkers!” Captain Pieterse said.
“Welcome to the Psychology Section where you will get your own administrative office in the Prison. You will liaise with other department such as social work and education. From time to time, you will also represent me at parole board hearings.” “Our appointment with Brigadier Kapp is now so let’s not keep him waiting,” he said.
Brigadier Kapp had an impressive office, with large bookshelves filled with books on a wide range of subjects, suggesting that he was well educated.
I jumped to attention. Brigadier Kapp said, “At ease, soldier. You are not in the Army anymore. We are more relaxed here and you are welcome to let your hair grow a bit.” His own thick bush of hair was quite long I thought.
“We have a desperate shortage of staff in the psychology division and Captain Pieterse works long hours to get through a mountain of work,” Brigadier Kapp said.
“Captain Pieterse, what is your assessment of Probationary Warder van Niekerk?” the Brigadier asked.
“He is well qualified having worked in a psychiatric hospital ward. He was accepted for postgraduate studies in Vienna while working as a proctor and tutor for two years. He would fit well with the team, Brigadier,” Captain Pieterse said.
“Is he going to give us trouble as the Army was concerned about his insubordinate nature?” The Brigadier asked.
“Brigadier, I’ll keep a tight leash on him. His co-workers have been alerted that he is stubborn and opinionated. He speaks straight from the heart, Brigadier and never sugar coats anything, which you may like,” Captain Pieterse said.
“Can we deploy him to work with political prisoners as well?” Brigadier Kapp asked. “Sir, I think we need to let him settle in first to adjust to his new setting. With his university background assisting students, he may have potential to liaise with visiting lecturers who must guide their students with academic work, Captain Pieterse replied.
“Being quietly monitored by the Security Police, he would be watched like a hawk which is highly stressful,” Captain Pieterse said.
“His adaptation would indicate his potential ability to continue working in such a high- stress environment. Evaluating any staff working in stressful sections where they are constantly monitored requires diplomacy on our part. Rubin shows potential in my opinion sir,” Captain Pieterse said.
Their open discussion in front of me surprised me. My face flushed to their amusement! Pale people can’t hide flushed cheeks well!
“Captain Pieterse. I think your assessment has merit and I concur,” Brigadier Kapp said.
“Rubin, you must prove yourself in a tough environment. No deviation from protocol would be tolerated. The suspicious security police will watch your interactions closely. Your appointment is controversial, so you have much to prove, Brigadier Kapp warned me.
“Welcome to the challenges of Westville Prison, and I’m pleased to have met you,” Brigadier Kapp said. “I’m honoured to have met you Brigadier and will not disappoint you, or Captain Pieterse.”
“Thank you, Captain, for coming and introducing our unusual recruit to me personally,” Brigadier Kapp said. Once we left the Brigadier’s office Captain Pieterse took me back to section B where my new office was.
It was close to the personnel office so at least we could visit each other. The office was huge and almost the size of the personnel office. Captain Pieterse said I’m welcome to decorate it any way I liked but there is no budget, so décor was for my account!
Meintjies looked sad when I returned to pack my few things. He walked with me to my new office and apologised for punishing me and hurting my feelings when he called me a dummy. I smiled and said, “Deon, blondes are dummies!”
I closed my door and gave him a bear hug. Neither of us wanted to let go.
We both felt emotional after my impulsive hug.
I felt inexplicably sad as I knew another chapter closed.
This is a brief excerpt from Rubin van Niekerk’s upcoming Memoir/Autobiography, titled Mentors, Family and Friends Matter, chronicling the people, places and experiences that shaped his life from early childhood to later adulthood. We all relate to this universal experience.
New chapters will be published regularly in the Magazine section of the landing page of Gay Pages website, alongside our favourite archived articles, as the journey unfolds.
